Jacks smacked his lips casually as he looked over the five raiders about fifteen feet from him. Two with rifles, two with 10mm pistols, and the obvious leader who wielded a flame thrower. A flying eyebot named ED-E floated over his left shoulder, while a pink alien pony stood by his right. Jacks couldn’t help but chuckle at his life, and how it surprised even him at times.
“That’s him Cook-Cook! That’s the bastard who killed Cutter and shot me in the back!” The one-armed man’s angry cried angrily, interrupting Jacks’ thoughts.
“Ah, the Infamous Cook-Cook. What brings a lowly cannibalistic murdering rapist such as yourself to my humble home-for-the-night? Oh, and did you know that someone put quite a bounty on your head?”
The scorched raider smirked. “So my reputation precedes me. I take it you know what happens next?”
“I’ve got a general idea of what you think will happen, yes. On the other hand, I would beckon you and your party inside to offer you some of my vittles; though I must admit I wasn’t expecting company at such an early hour, and as a result I’m afraid there’s not really much left.”
“Funny.” Cook-Cook said dryly. His eyes wandered to the pink pony beside Jacks as a devious grin spread across his face. “Mmmmm~… I’ve never been with a horse before…”
Jacks’ smile dropped faster than a DJ’s beats. Pinkie’s expression turned sour and opened her mouth as if to say something, but Jacks beat her to it.
“You touch her and I’ll skin you alive. …And that’s assuming you can get through me in the first place.” His upper lip twitched angrily.
“HA! I’ll make you eat those words after I burn your sorry ass!”
“ED-E, don’t shoot. I want to do this on my own,” Jacks said, though he kept focused on the gang’s leader. “Pinkie, stay behind me.” A thought struck him. “…On second thought, that’s probably not a wise decision. Go inside and stay there.”
“But-“
“Now,” He said sternly. Pinkie pouted before walking inside with ED-E close behind. “Alright Cook-Cook…” Jacks pulled out a shot of Med-X and jabbed it in his neck. “…Let’s get this over with.”
The raider smirked. “You heard him boys. Let him have it!”
The four raiders on either side of Cook-Cook raised their weapons and opened fire. However, in the blink of an eye, Jacks whipped his material rifle off his back and began to walk calmly forward. Bullets pinged into or bounced off his armor as he aimed for the raider wielding the marksman carbine, him being the largest foreseeable threat. With the click of the trigger and an ear-shattering blast, a 50cal. bullet flew through the raider’s skull with explosive force, leaving little of the head behind as the body fell to the ground.
A twinge pain shot through Jacks’ right leg as a bullet from the assault rifle found its way in-between armored plates. His calm expression remained unwavering as he turned to the raider wielding the assault rifle. He saw the look of fearful anger in the man’s face as he lined the shot up between his eyes. Another click of the trigger, another ear-splitting bang, and another headless raider fell to the ground dead. Three left now.
He turned to the 10mm wielding raider that still had both his arms and took a body shot, tearing open a sizeable hole where the man’s heart had once been. Another twinge of pain as a bullet from the one-armed raider squeezed between armor plates and stuck in his arm. Jacks turned to the man, who was visibly shaking. An intimidating grin spread across Jacks’ face, causing the raider to drop his pistol and take a step back fearfully.
Suddenly he noticed Cook-Cook raising his flamethrower. He held an arm up to shield his face from the flames, only… they didn’t come. The burned raider swore angrily as he hit the flame thrower, desperately trying to get it to work. Jacks seized the opportunity and took aim, grinning smugly as he lined the shot. The gun echoed across the wasteland as the last shot was fired.
Cook-Cook’s crotch exploded in a splatter of blood as the bullet did its irreparable damage. The raider leader let out a cry of pain that was almost on par with the gun’s blasts as he fell to the ground, writhing in unimaginable pain. Even Jacks cringed slightly at the thought of how it must of hurt, but aside from that he felt no remorse for the victim. He looked back up to the one-armed raider, who had witnessed the event with shock and even some horror.
“You’ve got as long as it takes for me to reload.” The empty magazine fell from his material rifle with a clack.
The raider’s eye twitched as he looked between the empty mag and Jacks’ demented smile. He took a few steps back, afraid that if he broke eye contact he would instantly be killed. With one last look at Cook-Cook’s writhing body, the raider turned and bolted off back in the direction of New Vegas. He tripped after a few feet and shot a look back at Jacks before picking himself up and resuming his mad dash.
Jacks Smirked as he slid a new magazine into the rifle. He raised the rifle and looked into the scope, lining the bandit’s head up in the crosshairs.
“Bang,” he whispered to himself before lowering the rifle. This time, he wanted the bandit to escape. Of course this would lead to one of two outcomes: either more raiders would come after him, or they would fortify their defenses. It didn’t matter to him which they decided to do as long as they knew he was coming for them one way or another.
The sudden crack of a pistol firing jarred him from this thought. A .44 armored piercing round puncture his Kevlar cape and embed itself in the upper left plate of armor on his back. Would have been a heart-shot, had the cape not slowed the bullet. Jacks turned to see Cook-Cook pointing the .44 pistol from where he was propped up by the tank on his back.
“Should have gone for the headshot,” Jacks said with a confident smirk. Cook-Cook adjusted his aim and squeezed the trigger, but before the pin could fall a 50cal round shattered the pistol and mangled the raider’s hand before traveling down his arm, eventually stopping near the shoulder. The injured man howled in pain and anger as his arm fell to his side limply. Jacks slung the material rifle on his back and waved his index finger back and forth.
“Tsk tsk. I expected more from you.” Cook-Cook sneered at the gesture.
“Mother Fucker! I’ll make you pay!”
“You know, it’s always kinda’ stumped me… Why do people in a situation like yours always say things like that? I mean it should be obvious that such hateful words will only make the person in my position even angrier, making the person in your position’s death a lot more painful. After all, it’s not as if such hollow threats ever got anyone in your position anywhere except sealing their fate even further.” Cook-Cook looked at Jacks in enraged confusion.
“…Fuck you!” Jacks put a hand to his forehead and chuckled.
“You people never learn. It really is a wonder the NCR haven’t killed you all off yet. Of course, I’ll be taking care of that soon enough. Now hold still…” He pulled a combat knife out from inside his cape. “My knife throwing is a bit rusty.”
Cook-Cook pulled a 9mm pistol out with his good arm, but by then Jacks had already thrown the knife. Cook-Cook’s eyes widened as the knife pierced his heart. His eye twitched angrily as he felt the warm liquid spilling out from the wound. Jacks walked up calmly and swatted his arm out of the air.
“Sweet dreams Cook-Cook. And thanks for being so kind as to give me the reward on you.” Cook-Cook sneered again before his head slumped back. Jacks squatted down by the dead raider and pulled the bloody knife from his chest.
“Another one bites the dust.” His smile shrunk until it was all but existent. “…Now for the grisly part.” He stabbed the knife into Cook-Cook’s neck and began to cut away at it until he reached the spine, which he snapped with relative ease.
“That was flippin’ awesome! Do it again!” Jacks’ head around, finding Pinkie standing behind him. “They were all like ‘we’re gonna kill you!’ and you were all like ‘Nuh uh!’ and then you both were like ‘bang bang BOOM!’” She jumped around while making the sound effects. Jacks stood up, trying not to let Pinkie see the head as he hid it behind his back.
“Yea, heh… Hey, I need to go do something inside real quick. If you’ll excuse me-“
“Hey wait a second.” Pinkie looked to the headless body, then to jacks. He didn’t like the quizzical look on her face… “Where's Cooky’s head?” She tried to walk around jacks to see what he was hiding, but he kept turning to keep it out of sight.
“Nowhere. It’s uh… it exploded when I shot it.” Pinkie looked him in the eye and squinted.
“But you didn’t shoot him in the head. I saw.” Jacks looked back and forth nervously.
“Nope. Guess you saw wrong.”
“Look Jackie,” her expression deadpanned. “This is your world and your way of doing things, and I respect that. Now do you have his head or not?” Jacks’ expression turned from nervousness, to confusion, then to regretful acceptance, all in a matter of milliseconds.
“Alright, fine.” He held the head out reluctantly. “I cut it off because I’ll get a lot of money for proving that I killed him. You know, like a reward.” Pinkie’s expression turned happy again.
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place, silly!”
“Well, I figured because where you’re from…”
“I’m not there now, am I?”
“Well no, but I-“
“Then don’t worry about it!” Jacks blinked at how easily she had accepted such things so quickly, but he didn't question it. Then again, he didn’t think we really wanted to question it either.
“Ok… Well since you apparently don’t have a problem with it, I guess my plan is still a ‘go’.”
“Oh? What superific plan is that?”
“Go and kill off the Raider leaders one by one before heading into their stronghold and finishing them off once and for all.” Pinkie smiled so big she had to close her eyes.
“Sounds like fun! Where do we start?”
“Well, could you loot these bodies while I cauterize this guy’s neck so he doesn’t bleed all over my armor? Just gather everything you can find aside from their clothes and gather it up. Think you can do that?” Pinkie nodded. “…Alright, I guess. Be back in a bit.”
Jacks went inside as Pinkie started looting Cook-Cook’s corpse. After a few minutes, Jacks returned to find Pinkie standing in front of a pile of various items. He knelt down beside her and picked up the assault rifle.
“See, what you loot is determined on whether you’re wanting something valuable or helpful. Now guns, preferably guns like this, are always good loot because they cover both qualifications. If you don’t use it, then you can always sell it. Of course, if you find a similar weapon to the one you have, you could always repair your gun using parts from the one you found. Also make sure to get any and all ammo you find. That’s a must.” He set the rifle aside before doing the same with the marksman carbine and all the ammunition he could find. Pinkie followed along silently, watching attentively.
“Now things like this,” he picked up a stimpack. “Are helpful, as in they help heal you or help you in other ways. Speaking of which…” His multiple bullet wounds began to burn intensely as the Med-X wore off. He stabbed the stimpack into his leg near the bullet hole and relaxed as the pain subsided. He did the same with the wound in his arm, and continued with his ‘lecture’.
“Let’s see, what else is there… Ah!” he picked up the 10mm pistol. “you can take small arms if you need to or if you really want to, but they’re not nearly as valuable or useful as larger arms, so you don’t really have to take them.” He tossed the pistol back in the main pile. “Other than that, there’s not really much point in taking any other junk unless you have a good reason to. Taking junk only succeeds in weighing you down pointlessly, which can prove to be problematic in the future.”
“Any questions?” Pinkie shook her head before picking up the assault rifle.
“I can carry these if ya’ want.”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to burden you.” Pinkie tucked the rifle behind her back and out of sight.
“Its fine, I can get it!”
Jacks reached over her back. “No really, I-” he didn’t feel the gun. To Pinkie’s surprise, he picked her up and turned her around, looking all over her for the rifle. “…Where’d it go?”
“Right here,” she said, pulling the rifle out from behind her. Jacks stared at her, a baffled look plastered on his face. He began to stammer as he pointed between the gun and her.
“Wha- How? What? That’s just- I mean… WHAT?” Pinkie giggled.
“It’s best not to think about it.” Jacks stammered for a moment more before shaking his head to try to forget about the violation of physics.
“R-right… Um…” He stood up and looked off towards New Vegas. “I think we should move on before more unwelcome visitors drop by for brunch.” He refused to watch as Pinkie tucked the assault rifle and marksman carbine behind her back.
“Okie dokie lokie! Lead on, Mr. Badass!”
Jacks offered a weak chuckle before turning to Vegas and picking up a fair paced walk, Pinkie and ED-E following close behind.